


De Vita sanguis

by LightBruja



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: #FodlanFrights, #Graveyard, #atomichush, #blood, #gothic, #horror, #oneshot, #spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightBruja/pseuds/LightBruja
Summary: Jeritza wakes up in a graveyard not knowing how he got there.It all becomes clear when a figure guides him.
Kudos: 2
Collections: Fodlan Frights Halloween Exchange 2020





	De Vita sanguis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Atomichush](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Atomichush).



> Thank for reading! This piece was written as a gift for @atomichush on Twitter as part of the Fodlan Frights Exchange Event! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it very much!

Jeritza wasn’t sure where he was. His vision hadn’t yet cleared from his seemingly deep sleep. But what he did know was that where he was, it was cold and damp. And whatever he was propped up against was solid, as if made of stone. 

A few more blinks of his eyes, and the haziness that comes from a long enough sleep brings him out of the fog. Looking around, he saw the marble and stonework of a graveyard that he didn’t recognize. Something in the back of head yearned for him to recognize what had happened - but he couldn’t remember! 

As he stood up, the man wavered for a moment. He felt unsteady and a quick blur of his vision caused a groan to escape his lips and he held onto a slab that was next to him for support. Once he steadied himself again, he glanced to the slab. 

Staining the crisp white of the marble, a red handprint marked where he had held onto. Jeritza brought his hands in front of him, both of them painted in vermillion. A glance to the rest of his seeable person saw more splatters of the scarlet stains. 

His breath picked up and he started to look around for something reflective, so he could truly see what had happened to him. Was he injured? Is that why he was so dizzy and uneasy on his feet? Looking down, he saw a trail of the same substance that stained his body. It seemed to lead further into the dense fog of the cemetery. 

Despite the slight waver to his gait, Jeritza started to jog around the sacred grounds. Ravens, both stone and feathered alike, stared at him as he followed the trail. Rain had begun to fall in nondescript patterns on the ground. When a drop hit the trail, it began to flow away to the side. 

The man rushed to follow it more. 

The caw of one of the live ravens startled him, the corvid flying above him and into the unknown reaches of the fog. And soon, the soft rain turned into a storm brought down by wrathful clouds. 

It began to darken around him, but not enough to completely obstruct his vision. However, the trail of what he assumed to be blood was beginning to wash away. Jeritza quickened his pace, careful not to slip on the slick stones of the pathways. The only noises were his steps, the rain on the surfaces around him, and his breath coming out in visible puffs in front of him. 

He turned a corner, the last few slivers of the red liquid dissipating. He looked up, seeing just one path ahead of him. This had to be the way out. He slowed his steps, the fog thicker in this area of the graveyard. 

The weight that he felt on his shoulders made him feel like he had been walking for hours. Just what had happened to him? Walking further, he finally saw it. 

There was an opening! And a figure stood directly across from him! It must be someone looking for him at the entryway. 

With newfound vigor, Jeritza ran toward the gate, getting closer and closer to the figure. But as he drew closer to see enough detail, he stopped. His eyes widened as he saw exactly what was in front of him. 

He didn’t know exactly what it was - but he was sure it wasn’t a man. The armored figure was massive, and was as dark as the sky over them. The only thing that Jeritza could really see were the haunting facade of the figure’s helm, and the bright red eyes that stared at him without blinking. 

“Who...who are you?” His voice was hoarse and unsteady. 

The figure beyond the gate only stared back without any visible emotion. He truly had the face of a ghoul! 

**“You have forgotten me? After all we have done together?”** The armored man’s voice chilled Jeritza to his core. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but this man or creature was dangerous. And he wouldn’t understand why he would know such a terrible thing! 

“I’m sorry - I just don’t know. I don’t even know how I got here or why I have all of this blood on me! I cannot find the injury that causes it but I am so disoriented. If I can’t find the source I’m afraid I will pass out again!” 

Jeritza felt his hair on the back of his neck rise as the creature before him laughed. It was such a dark laugh, but one that seemed hollow. Was there even a person in that armor? 

The figure merely pointed at him, to one of the areas that had the prominent stain he saw earlier. Jeritza looked down and gasped. 

There was no more blood. There were no more stains anywhere on his clothing or his hands. He quickly touched the same areas, and found no injuries. He didn’t even wince at the contact. 

“But how is this possible? I was covered earlier. What is the meaning of this?” Jeritza looked back up to confront the man in the deathly armor, but he was not expecting to see what was in its place. 

It was him. If anything, he looked more pale than what he remembered and he was wet from the rain that fell upon him. What sort of magic was this armored man doing?! Jeritza walked closer to the gate and the man in front of him drew closer to him. When he raised a hand, so did the copy. 

He moved his arm forward, as did the Jeritza in front of him. Closer. And closer. And closer still! If they were to get any closer he would touch the man’s hand! 

But instead, he touched a smooth surface. It was hard, and cold, a reaction to the temperature around him. As he removed his hand, so did the reflected version of himself. They both stared at their hands in shock, and as Jeritza looked at the gate once again, he realized his mistake. This wasn’t a gate. 

It was a mirror. 

At the revelation, the dark chuckle of the macabre knight resonated in his head. His vision was suddenly hijacked by images of massacred bodies, blood, and complete brutality. 

All at his hands.

The man sunk to his knees, barely feeling the cobblestone dig into the fabric of his pants and pressing against his skin.

What had he done? 


End file.
